


The Forging of the Lock

by Booknerdproblems



Category: Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Aelin forges the lock, Angst, Character Death, F/M, I cried writing this, I'm Sorry, One Shot, Pain, Rowan is in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:42:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24771835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Booknerdproblems/pseuds/Booknerdproblems
Summary: Aelin forges the lock, Rowan can't let her die.
Relationships: Aelin Ashryver Galathynius | Celaena Sardothien/Rowan Whitethorn
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16





	The Forging of the Lock

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is a very angsty, very sad one shot I wrote based off of a post I saw on Tumblr.

Aelin was forging the lock, Rowan Whitethorn Galathynius could do nothing but watch. Her power was slowly being ripped away from her, her very soul being sucked into the gateway between worlds.  
Rowan was kneeling in front of her standing body, frozen, her face vacant, eyes staring at nothing. The blood oath had been ripped apart, the carranam bond holding on by a fraying thread. The mating bond was holding strong, and he gripped it with all his might.  
Fenrys and Lorcan were on the ground, panting as they recovered from the loss of the blood oath. Dorian and Chaol were in a tight embrace, readying for the last breaths of the female who was, first and foremost, their friend.  
The Lock was draining Aelin’s power, and he could tell she was on the last dregs of the wildfire that flickered in her soul. The fire was diminishing, but he could not, would not, let that light go out. She was the spark that would light the fire to burn darkness from their world. And Rowan would not let her yield.  
Rowan felt a presence along the mating bond, an awful, godly presence, travelling swiftly towards him.  
“Would you yield, Prince?” it whispered into his mind, “will you finally yield, for her?” it was an ancient, hollow voice, that sent chills up his spine, but he knew his answer long before he replied,  
“To whatever end.”  
A glance around him showed that no one had noticed the exchange, and he felt the presence receding, satisfied.  
Aelin’s unholy power was not enough. It wasn’t enough that she’d suffered Endovier, Adarlan, Maeve, Cairn. She’d given so much, and it still wasn’t enough. He would gladly give in her place, would give anything if she could live, finally, not survive, live.  
So he gave.  
His power flowed along the mating bond, flowing through Aelin, her bloodline the conduit between worlds. And he didn’t fight when he felt himself fading. It had been his vow to Aelin this whole time, his Fireheart, his mate, wife, queen, and friend, To Whatever End. 

-x-

Aelin Ashryver Whitethorn Galathynius was alive. She didn’t know how, or why, but she was. She could have a life, with her mate, her cousin, her friends, in her kingdom, in the birthright she was finally ready to claim.  
She’d been on the verge of death, when a glorious, familiar melody of power had flooded through her, and pulled her back from the edge, it had given itself to the lock, using her body as a conduit.  
She gasped, her knees hit the floor and her eyes flew open.  
The first thing she noticed was the sheer amount of terror in her, for what she didn't know.  
The next thing she noticed was the horrifying, hollow emptiness in the chest.  
It was where… where the mating bond should have been.  
Then she noticed Rowan’s body, sprawled on the floor, in front of her, everybody standing around in varying states of shock.  
She crawled over to him, cupped his cheeks, kissed his mouth softly. He’d- he must have passed out, maybe he- he’d just passed out from the mating bond fraying. He would wake up, he- he needed to wake up. He would say her name and kiss her and fight with her and love her for a thousand years. He- he wasn't breathing. He wasn’t breathing. Rowan was not breathing. Then it hit her. What he’d done.  
A whisper escaped her, his name. His name was a prayer, a plea on her lips. She said it again, and again, and again. Until she was screaming it, her head against his chest, where the mighty heart should have been beating.  
She was never again to feel him stroking her hair after a nightmare, never to feel his amusement when she ate too many chocolates, never would feel his lips on hers, never again spar with her husband, her equal, her soulmate.  
Her instincts were on overdrive, the Fae side of her roaring to protect her mate, even when there was nothing to protect. Destroy, protect, save, die. She wanted to curl up beside her mate and stay there forever, in his arms. They were supposed to go together, to have a thousand years and children and a life before fading into the afterworld together. 

Rowan, Rowan, Rowan, Rowan, Rowan. 

Her mate, her carranam, her blood sworn, her husband, her buzzard, her friend.  
He was gone, and it was meant to be her. Hot tears were landing on his face, a faint smile still on his lips, as if he’d been happy to do it. Happy to die, if it would give her a chance to live. She clawed at the ground, just as she’d clawed at his skin last night, rolling around in ecstasy that only her mate would bring. The kind he would never give her again. A gut-wrenching scream tore out of her mouth, and she was burning, hot and bright, as she clutched his still-warm body.

-x-

Fenrys Moonbeam had never seen anything as bad as this. Not through battlefields, through all he had done through Maeve’s reign, not when Cairn had ripped Aelin apart day after day. Never. His queen was on her knees, clawing at the ground, as she fought her mated Fae instincts, the instincts to destroy, to protect, the urge to die with her mate. His king, his commander, his brother.  
Rowan was gone. Died protecting the female he loved. He hadn't been able to protect Lyria, and he had stopped at nothing to protect Aelin, his equal. A whimper cut through his thoughts.  
“It should have been me. It was meant to be me. All these years, it was meant to be me.” Aelin was sobbing, such deep, harrowing sobs wracking through her body. He reached for her, to hold her, to let her fight him, he didn’t know. But she fought him off, clinging to her mate’s limp body. They had a war to win, and they needed her to do it.  
She had never once broken, but this, this could break her at last. Losing a mate. 

-x-

“You could do anything, you could rattle the stars, if only you dared, and deep down, that's what scares you most.”  
The words rattled around her head.  
Rowan was gone. Aelin knew that in her heart. He was gone, so that she had a chance to live. But she wouldn’t break, not now, not so close to the end.  
So, she tucked Rowan into her heart, his strength and loyalty and kindness, her face set with such wrath and vengeance only a mated female could produce, and went to rattle the stars, because Rowan had given her the strength to dare, because she was Aelin Ashryver Whitethorn Galathynius, she would not be afraid, and because her mate had liven up to his vow, for her, To Whatever End.

**Author's Note:**

> Come shout at me on Tumblr @booknerdproblems


End file.
